


for the couple that is no longer Alone on Thanksgiving

by Overdressedtokill (SkyeStan)



Series: Craigslist AU [13]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, WASP Wards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:54:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5291654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SkyeStan/pseuds/Overdressedtokill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which the girl from craigslist has a very happy and surprising(!) Thanksgiving.</p>
            </blockquote>





	for the couple that is no longer Alone on Thanksgiving

They’re going to be late. And unlike last year, where she’d been late for a silly reason (sitting thirteen minutes, then pacing outside the coffee shop for three, wondering if she actually had the balls to go through with a Craigslist date), this is serious.

“What’s better?” she asks, holding up both shirts. “‘I’ve Got a Turkey in the Oven,’ or ‘This Thanksgiving, I’m Eating for Two?’”

Grant sticks his head into the bedroom. “We should’ve left like, ten minutes ago,” he says.

She shakes the shirts in his general direction. “Pick one!”

“‘I’ve Got a Turkey in the Oven,’” Grant says. “The other one has the turkey with a littler turkey inside it, and it’s kind of weirding me out.”

She holds it to her chest, glancing down. “Yeah, probably shouldn’t have gotten it. Goodwill?”

“Goodwill,” Grant agrees.

She tosses it to the side of the bed. “Ugh.” She pulls the other shirt over her head, waiting for Grant’s firm hands to come help her get it over her bump.

He’s there like clockwork. “My poor baby,” he says. “Just a few weeks left!”

“I know, I know,” she says. “But everything huuuuuuurts. Especially my boobs.”

He finds her chest. He has such warm, soothing hands. “They are really big, though.”

A look. “Grant.”

“What?” he says. “You’re so beautiful, Skye.”

Ugh. Ugh. He’s so cute. He is so damn cute. “Don’t give me those puppy-eyes of yours,” she says. “You just like the big boobs and the horniness.”

“And getting to rub your back every night, sometimes twice a day,” Grant says. “Plus rubbing your bump, and singing to Briar when you’re sleeping, and-”

“We get it,” Skye says, rubbing a hand over her tummy. “You’re an angel sent from heaven that accidentally got me pregnant.”

“The best accident ever,” Grant corrects. “You... Are excited, right? To meet her? And raise her?”

She cups his cheek. “Babe,” she says. “Duh. I mean, I’m excited not to carry her around, first and foremost,” Skye says. “And then yes, for everything else.”

“I’ll carry her,” Grant assures her. “You hear that, Briar? Once you’re out, you’re gonna have to get used to me carrying you instead.”

“Yeah,” Skye says, poking at her own stomach. “You can give Grant backaches.”

“Will you rub my back?” he asks, oh so sweetly.

She grins. “I’d rub you down right now, but you said we had to leave.”

He pouts. Cutely. Everything he does is done cutely, to be honest. “I know.”

“Come on,” Skye says, linking her arm through his. “I’m excited to see how I top last year’s spectacular.”

He smiles. “Shall we?”

She nuzzles his arm. “Definitely. I’ve been waiting for this meal all month.”

 

 

She holds her belly for most of the car ride.

“You know we’re going to have to get a baby seat,” Skye says. “Sooner rather than later.”

“I know,” Grants says. “I was thinking we could put it in your van, actually.”

She tilts her head. “What?”

“Yeah!” he affirms. “It’s a good size for kids, you know? And there’s already a bed in there, so we can just switch that out for a crib-”

“You hate my van,” Skye says.

He grins. “You know I’m joking, right?”

She smacks his bicep. “Grant!”

“Why would I be serious about that?” he asks. “That thing is a death trap! Especially for a baby.”

“That van was my first baby!” Skye says. “We were good together.”

“Well,” Grant says. “Maybe next year, when Briar’s old enough, we can go on a road trip. Instead of Thanksgiving.”

“Aw, Grant, that’s-” She winces. “Ow, Briar. Don’t kick me! Your legs are too big for that!”

“Be nice to mommy!” Grant chides. “She must be eager to come meet everyone.”

“But why does my cervix have to get the brunt of it,” Skye says, rubbing her stomach. “It feels like she just headbutted me, too. Jeez.”

“Briar!” Grant says, scandalized. “You’re not due yet! Calm down!”

“Ugh,” Skye says. “36 weeks is fine though, right? I mean, if she wanted to come out, she could. I am sore.”

“36 weeks is on the early side, but should be fine,” Grant says. “But it’s best for you to stay to term, young lady!”

“Ah,” Skye says, hunching over as Briar moves again. “Those were my ribs.”

Grant’s frowning in concern. “Do you want to go to the hospital? Is it bad?”

“No, no,” Skye says. “She’s just eager. Probably excited for the meal.”

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Positive.”

“I’m keeping an eye on you, though,” Grant says. “Just in case.”

“You always do,” Skye says, warmly. “I’m sure if she comes tonight, you’d carry me to the ambulance.”

“Of course,” Grant says. “But try not to come out tonight, Briar! It’s gonna be a busy night!”

“You heard your father,” Skye says. “Stay put!”

“I like when you call me her father,” Grant says.

She watches him for a moment. The autumn sky moving through the windows, behind his head. “I know, baby. I like saying it, too.”

He squeezes her hand.

 

 

Thomas is waiting for them outside.

“Before you start, my very round sister-in-law,,” he says, as Skye gets out of the car. “This was Christian’s idea. He thought you might need an extra hand.”

“I’m not going to start,” Skye says. She stretches, sighing in relief as her lower back pops.“I just don’t need any extra help getting inside. Not with-” She gestures to Grant. “He’s got this.”

“Got what?” Grant asks. “Why is Thomas outside? Is something wrong?”

“Christian thought I might need help getting inside,” Skye says. “And yes, I may be on waddle-mode, but I’m perfectly fine.”

Or she is, until she gets another headbutt from her darling daughter.

“Jesus,” Skye gasps. “What the hell, Briar?”

“Hey-” Grant takes her arm. “Don’t get mad. We can go to the hospital any time you want.”

“I’m not mad,” Skye says. “I’m just crampy.”

Thomas takes her other arm. “And you said you didn’t need help.”

“Shut it,” Skye says. “Both of you, help me inside.”

Thomas nods. “Whatever you want, beach ball.”

“I will eat you,” Skye warns. “Don’t test me.”

“Both of you,” Grant says. “And come on, Tommy. You know Skye looks amazing.”

“I mean, she looks like she swallowed a planet,” Thomas says.

Skye elbows him in the ribs.

“I know!” Grant says, beaming. “Isn’t it great?”

“Aw, thanks Grant,” Skye says. “I just wish our little planet would behave herself!”

 

 

“Who needs to behave?” Christian asks. 

She looks up.

The setup is the same as last year. Like someone captured a picture and reprinted it.

But it’s softer around the edges. So that’s nice.

“No one,” Skye says. “The baby. Thomas, probably.”

“You look good,” Anna says, from the loveseat. “I like the tee shirt.”

“You do?” Christian asks.

Anna shrugs.

“Good to see you guys, too,” Skye says. Grant and Thomas help her onto the opposite couch. She happily settles into the soft cushions. “Really.”

“Christian and I took bets if you would wear last year’s dress,” Thomas says. “He owes me fifty dollars.”

“We said ten.”

“And I want fifty,” Thomas says. “Duh.”

“I couldn’t fit into last year’s dress if I wanted to,” Skye says. “Not even as a bra.”

“Shame,” Christian says.

A beat.

“What?!” he says. “I wanted to win the bet!”

“God, mayo,” Skye says, laughing. “Remember how terrible you were last year?”

“I wasn’t terrible,” Christian says, pulling his wallet out of his slacks. “I was stressed because I had separated from my beloved wife.”

“And what was the excuse before that?” Thomas asks.

“You,” Christian says, handing his brother $50. “Obviously.”

“Asshole,” Thomas says. “Thanks.”

Grant gently sits down beside her. She’s quick to rest her head on his shoulder. “Hi,” she whispers.”

He rubs her leg. “Hi,” he replies. “You look so good.”

“You keep saying that,” she says.

“Because it’s true.”

She nuzzles him. “Thank you.”

“Where on earth are Mother and Father?” Christian asks. “They’re supposed to-”

“Supposed to what?” Skye says.

He looks away. “Nothing.”

“Um,” Skye says. “What did you do?”

“You’re terrible at this,” Anna says. “Jesus, Christian. It’s nothing, Skye. Don’t worry about it.”

“Well, I’m not worried,” Skye says. “But I’m definitely suspicious.”

“Where’s Rose?” Grant asks. “I figured she’d be-”

 

 

“Sorry!” Rose exclaims, as if summoned down the stairs. She rushes into the sitting room, hands hidden behind her back. “Sorry, sorry! I was making this!” She presents Skye with-

A crown of roses.

Skye doesn’t mean to start crying. Really, she doesn’t.

“Oh my God,” she sobs. Oh God. Hormone attack. Baby attack. Too much. “Oh God, Rosie-”

Rose takes a step back. “Oh,” she says. “Is it- Did I do it wrong?”

Skye lurches forward. Takes Rose by the shoulders and wraps her into the tightest hug she can manage. “Baby!” Skye cries. “It’s so beautiful and you made it! For meeeee!”

“She’s just very pregnant, Rose,” Christian says. “Those are happy tears.”

“Good!” Rose says. “Okay. I love you, Skye!”

“I love you toooo,” Skye sobs, gasping for air. “You have to put it on me, baby!”

“Okay!” Rose says.

“You should maybe let her go,” Grant says.

“I don’t wanna,” Skye says. “I don’t wanna, she made it for me! She made me a thing!”

“We all got you presents!” Rose says.

“Rosie, baby,” Christian says. “That was a surprise.”

Skye blinks. Releases Rose from her grasp. “You all got me presents?”

Christian sighs. “I mean, yes, we-”

“You all got me presents!” Skye yells, a fresh batch of tears all ready to go. “Oh my God! Come here Christian! Come here!”

“That’s fine,” he says. “I’d rather you not cry on my suit.”

“Wow,” Thomas says. “Astonishing.”

“C’mere,” Grant offers, pulling Skye to his chest. “My beautiful Skye.”

“Everyone loves me so much!” she says. “I’m gonna die!”

“Don’t die!” Rose says.

“It’s an expression, baby,” Grant says. He runs his fingers through Skye’s hair.

“Briar is hitting my cervix again,” Skye continues, crying all the while. “Oh my God. This is so much.”

“Thanks for that,” Thomas says.

“I love you,” Grant says. He tilts her head up. God, she loves the sight of him. His beautiful face, his warm eyes.

“I love you, too,” Skye tells him, sniffling. She feels a bit better. Like she doesn’t need to sob anymore, which is good. She doesn’t actually enjoy doing it. It just happens. Like the cramping.

The miracle of life. Truly.

“Well, if we’re giving gifts,” Christian says. “I suppose Anna and I can give you ours.”

“Wait,” Skye says. “Wait. Rosie-” She smiles. “Can you put the crown on me?”

“Yes!” Rose says, beaming with joy. “It’s gonna look so pretty!”

Skye bows her head. “I know it is, baby.”

Rose’s gentle fingers smooth Skye’s hair, pushing it back over her shoulders. “Your hair is so soft!”

A giggle. “Thank you, Rosie.”

The crown slides into place, fitting perfectly on Skye’s head.

“Can I lift my head?” Skye asks.

Rose moves a stray piece of hair from Skye’s face. “Yep!”

She straightens her shoulders. It’s kind of weird, since it’s just the Wards, but Skye suddenly feels a lot more like a princess.

“How do I look?”

Rosie gasps, bringing her hands to her mouth. “Amazing!”

“It looks really pretty,” Grant says. “You did a great job, Rosie.”

“You’re gonna make yourself a matching one, right?” Skye says.

Rose nods. “If you want!”

“I do!” Skye says. “We’ll be twin princesses.”

“And one for the baby!” Rose says. “She’s a baby princess.”

Briar, in response, kicks Skye in the ribs. “You have no idea,” Skye says, blanching.

Rose tilts her head. “Something wrong?”

“Briar’s been moving a lot today,” Skye says. “It’s very uncomfortable.”

“Well if she comes out before Christmas, I’m going to have to redo my entire gift list,” Christian says.

Skye gives him a look. “Your priorities are stunning.”

“Thank you.”

Grant rubs Skye’s shoulders. “Do you want to go lay down?”

“Nah,” Skye says. “Rosie, come sit next to me. Let’s keep the gift giving going.”

Rose happily bounces next to Skye on the couch. She settles with her hand firmly on Skye’s bump. “Be good, Briar,” she says. “Don’t hurt Skye.”

“Thank you, Rose,” Skye says.

 

 

“I want to clarify that I didn’t get you anything,” Thomas says. “I’m waiting for Christmas.”

“In which you will get me, hm.A dollar and a pack of corn chips,” Skye says.

He gives one of those dazzling grins. “Two dollars and a pack of corn chips.”

“Staggering.”

Christian clears his throat.

“Oh, sorry,” Skye says. “Did you want us to pay attention to you?”

He just rolls his eyes.“Do you want your presents or not?”

“You get me,” Skye says. “Presents, please.”

“Okay,” Anna adds, reaching under the loveseat. “So we went a little overboard, but that’s Christian’s fault. I just didn’t want to be outdone.”

Anna presents her with the most overstuffed diaper bag Skye’s ever seen.

Skye can do nothing but stare at it. “Holy crap.”

Grant leans forward, studying it. “Is this-”

“Burberry, yes,” Christian says. “It’s from this season, don’t worry.”

“Wasn’t my initial concern, but okay,” Grant says.

“Look inside!” Anna says, shoving it at them. Skye’s never really seen Anna so excited, and she’d hate to let her down. “We picked out everything ourselves.”

“Well,” Skye says, taking the bag and putting it on Grant’s lap. “That’s pretty impressive for the two of you.”

“Anna wanted to go with Prada, actually,” Christian says. “But we decided the Burberry design was better, and went from there.”

Skye’s going to just let that one go. She unzips the bag, and pulls out-

The most outlandish large stuffed unicorn she’s ever seen. It’s almost three feet tall. “Jesus christ.”

Rose gasps.

“You’ll get something like it for Christmas, Rosie,” Christian says. “This is for the baby.”

“It’s so pretty,” Rose says. “Briar’s gonna love it!”

“It’s huge,” Skye says. “How much- You guys didn’t spend too much on me, did you?”

“Of course not,” Christian says. “We spent it on Briar.”

“How much is too much?” Anna asks. “I mean, by your standards or ours?”

“You two do realize you’re like a parody twitter that someone brought to life, right,” Thomas asks. “Just asking.”

“There are baby shoes in here,” Skye says, pulling them out of the bag. “They’re-”

“Baby mary janes!” Anna says. “I didn’t even know Gucci made baby shoes until I looked.”

“Oh,” Skye says. She hadn’t known either, actually. She would’ve been just fine not knowing for the rest of her life, but here they are. “Wow.”

“Keep going,” Christian says. “There’s a few more things.”

Skye reaches in and pulls out an impossibly soft feeling... blanket. It’s a blanket, and it’s pink with a cable knit. “This is a Ralph Lauren baby blanket, isn’t it.”

Christian grins. “It’s even got her name embroidered at the bottom.”

Skye runs her fingers over the navy letters, which proudly read BRIAR. “I hope we don’t decide to change her name at the last minute.”

His face falls. “You-”

She laughs. “Relax. I’m just giving you a hard time. This is too much guys. Really.”

“You’re not even done yet,” Anna says. “Come on.”

“I feel a book,” Skye says. “Hold on, hold-”

It’s got a hot pink cover.

Grant furrows his brow. “This Little Piggy Went to Prada.”

“Isn’t it adorable?” Anna asks. “I thought it was so clever!”

“Well, you would,” Thomas says.

“Thomas, I will throw a shoe at you,” Anna says.

“You wouldn’t risk your shoes,” Thomas says.

“I didn’t say it would be my shoe,” Anna tells him. “I’d use one of Christian’s. He’s got his heavy oxfords on.”

Thomas responds by sticking his tongue out.

What’s really surprising is that Anna returns the expression.

“I like the book,” Rose says, decidedly. “It’s pink!”

“It is pink,” Christian says. “And it’s very you, darling.” He brushes Anna’s hand with his own.

“Thank you, dear,” she says. 

It’s cute. In it’s own weird Christian-and-Anna sort of way. “And our last gift,” Skye announces, reaching into the bag. “Is-”

A dress. It’s lavender, with a big fluffy skirt and cap sleeves. Skye notes the flowers embroidered on the top. 

“I know she’ll have to grow into it,” Anna says. “But we figured she’d be able to wear it by easter!”

“But guys,” Skye says, checking the label. “It’s not Ralph! And you can only wear Ralph on easter.”

“I think Mother will make an exception for an infant,” Christian says.

 

 

“Unlikely.”

She’s leaning in the doorway. Skye wonders just how long Mother Ward has been standing there, or why she insists on entering the room like a spectre, demon, or some third horrible and ghastly thing.

Christian’s good humor is snuffed out in an instant. “Mother. We started the gift giving early.”

“I know, Christian,” she says. “I have eyes.”

Rose moves off the couch. “I did it, Mom,” she says, quietly. “I was excited, I made Skye a crown and-”

Mother spares Skye a glance. Back to Rose.

Skye swallows. Even Briar seems to have stilled. She must know her Grandmother is in the room.

A curt nod. “It looks lovely, Rose.”

Grant actually sighs in relief. 

But it’s Rose who smiles brightly, and wraps her arms around Mother’s waist. “Yay!” she declares. “I’ll make you one, too!”

“Of course,” Mother says. She doesn’t move to hug Rose back, but she does spare her daughter a fond pat on the head. “But you know I prefer-”

“Hydrangeas,” Rose says. “Yep!”

Skye thinks, for an instant, that she almost sees Mother smile. But she blinks, and the expression is gone. “Is it time for dinner?” Skye asks.

“Not quite,” Mother says. “I thought since we did gifts early, Maynard and I could give you ours.”

Skye tilts her head. Gestures to Christian. “But Maynard is-”

“My father, Skye,” Christian says. And he actually is smiling, which is nice to see.

“Right,” Skye says. She’s never actually heard him called anything but Father before, so this is kind of a trip for her.

“Maynard,” Mother calls. “Do you have the gifts?”

“Yes, yes.” He comes into the room, three boxes in his arms. “Sorry. You put them on the high shelf, and you know I always forget when things are on the high shelf-”

“Well the high shelf was the best place to put them, I mean really-”

“I’m not questioning you, Georgie, but-”

Skye blinks. “Georgie?”

Mother and Father turn to look at her. “Georgiana,” Father says. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s-” Skye could really use a reaction from someone else, write about now. “It’s fine?”

“You didn’t have to get us anything,” Grant says. Skye could kiss him, right about now. “Really.”

“Please,” Mother says. “It’s just the traditional lot. Nothing fancy.”

Nothing fancy. Of course. Not like those are all Tiffany boxes. This family is nuts.

“Well,” Grant says. “If you insist.”

“The three traditional gifts,” Father says, like he’s starting a presentation. He places them next to Skye on the couch. “Every Ward child receives this gifts from their grandparents.”

“So you four all have these already?” Skye asks. She’s not even sure what ‘these’ are, but it’s probably something fancy.

The four of them nod. “They’re more for tradition than use,” Christian says. “But they’re nice to have. Open them.”

She pulls the ribbon off the first box. Cautiously opens the lid. “It’s-” A spoon. A literal silver spoon. Dear God. “Oh. Oh, wow.”

“You went with the bow on the handle,” Christian notes. “Good choice.”

“Thank you, Christian,” Mother says.

“You’re welcome, Mother.”

Skye takes a moment, or two, to process that she has entered a twilight zone. Where she is having a baby, and that baby is going to have her own silver spoon. Because it’s family tradition.

“You okay?” Grant whispers.

Skye can see her own reflection in the tiny back of the spoon. She stares at the crown on her head.

When did this happen? When did she truly become a princess?

“I’m in awe,” Skye says. “This must’ve been- You must’ve spent a lot.”

“They’re really not that expensive,” Mother says. “It’s a misconception.”

Skye’s almost positive it isn’t. She goes for the next box, which has a matching silver rattle.

“That’s more for show,” Father assures her. “It’s a nice little thing to have. But once she gets her real teeth, you’ll probably want to give her something softer.”

“I didn’t even know they made silver rattles,” Skye says.

“They discontinued it,” Mother says. “I had to call, and-” She waves her hand. “There was a bit of a production. But we got it, of course.”

The biggest box is last. 

“My mother wanted you to know she picked this one,” Father says. “She’s in Greece this year, always taking her vacations on the holidays, that one. But this is from her in spirit.”

“Oh,” Skye says. “That’s... incredibly sweet.” Too sweet. Unexpectedly so. She’s really trying not to have another sobbing fit.

It’s a ceramic piggy bank. But it’s not a pig, it’s a bunny, painted with delicate pink polka dots.

“I wanted to do a traditional pig,” Father says. “By my mother said to go with a rabbit.”

“I have the same one!” Rose says, proudly.

“Yes you do,” Father says. “Gramsy gives this to all her favorite girls.” 

Skye sniffles. “You guys...”

“Oh Lord,” Christian says. “Mother, you may need to leave the room. This may be too much emotion for you.”

Mother raises a single eyebrow. “Thank you for your concern, Christian.”

“You’re welcome, Mother.”

Skye, despite herself, lets a laugh bubble out of her chest. And another. Until she’s shaking with laughter, gasping for air. “Oh my God,” she says. “This is all for me! You did this for me!”

“Of course,” Grant says, pulling her close. “You deserve it. Carrying a baby is hard work!”

“Thank you,” Skye says. To him, to everyone. The gifts are ridiculous and outlandishly expensive, but she’s never felt so touched. “I mean it. Thank you so, so much.”

Mother remains stoic as always. “You’re welcome.”

“Shall we eat?” Father asks.

“Please,” Thomas says. “I’m famished.”

“I’m double famished,” Skye says. “Which, since I’m eating for two, is really quadruple.”

“So we’ll just give you the entire turkey, then?” Christian asks.

“Um, yes please,” Skye says. “Seriously. I will eat it.” Grant helps her off the couch. “Guys? Who’s down to watch me eat a whole turkey?”

 

 

She doesn’t get the whole bird.

Just most of it.

And stuffing. And potatoes. And most of the vegetables, surprisingly.

She’s very proud of herself, actually.

“Wow,” Thomas says. “I thought you ate a lot last year.”

“Wait,” Skye says. “Wasn’t I supposed to deep fry a turkey this year?”

“Not safe with the baby,” Grant says. “Next year.”

“Okay,” Skye says. “But I’m serious. Next year, we are deep frying this bird.”

Mother pats at her mouth with a napkin. “Of course we are.”

Skye smiles. “Could I get some more apple juice, please?”

“Of course, babe,” Grant says, kissing her head. “Just a minute.”

She shifts in her chair. Briar must’ve enjoyed the meal, because she’s been pretty decent.

Except-

Shit. Shit. Is Briar on her bladder? Skye is feeling a trickle of something down her thigh. Okay. She’s not gonna pee herself at the table. She’s not-

There’s- There’s a lot of something, and it’s gross and wet and it’s getting all over her and onto the chair and holy fucking shit balls-

“Guys,” Skye says. No one’s noticed. She’s still sitting, and the tablecloth is pretty long.

Christian gives her a glance. “Something wrong?”

She nods. “I think my water just broke.”

There’s a thud from the kitchen. Scuffled footsteps. Grant bounding into the dining room. “WHAT?”

“Yeah,” Skye says, standing as slowly as she can manage. “This is such bull, only a small percentage of people said that their water broke like this and it’s _everywhere_ and wow-”

The room is staring at her.

Grant rushes to her side, tucking his hand under her bump. “Oh God,” he says. “Skye, she’s coming, our baby-”

It’s like when people panic, and freeze. That’s exactly what’s happening. Everyone is panicking, and so no one is moving.

Skye nibbles her lip. “So, that happened.”

Mother sighs. “Well. I suppose that’s the end of that chair.”

Which, for better or for worse, is what breaks the silence.

“Mother!” Christian says. “Honestly?”

“Someone should call an ambulance,” Thomas says. “I mean, probably. Should we drive her to the hospital? What’s the protocol with this?”

“Ambulance or police escort?” Christian asks.

Skye holds her stomach and stares. “Do you have both on speed dial?”

“Yes!” Christian says. “Do you not?”

“Ambulance,” Grant says. “Let’s do ambulance.” 

“Right,” Christian says. “Yes. Ambulance.”

“Okay so,” Anna says, putting her phone down. “Called the ambulance while everyone was freaking out. Nice job, by the way.”

“I was in a panic, really Anasta-”

“Which is why I stepped in, darling. We just need to get her to the door.”

“Thank you,” Skye says. “Anna. Really.”

Anna gives her a nod. “Of course.”

“That was-” Christian kisses her temple. “Really spectacular, Anna.”

She grins. “I know. I mean, when the whole family-”

“Rose,” Skye says, suddenly. Looking for her. “Rosie, are you okay? I don’t want to scare you, I-”

“Here!” Rose says, coming in with one of the throw blankets from the living room. “I thought you’d need this.”

Yep. Here come the tears again. “Rosie-”

“Can you walk?” Grant asks. “Do you want me to carry you?”

“I can waddle,” Skye says, as Rose lays the blanket over her stomach. “I just need help.”

“Of course,” Grant says. “Thomas, help her out-”

It’s Christian who finds her other side first.

“You’re going to get baby water on your suit,” Skye says.

“It’s called amniotic fluid, and I’ll be fine,” Christian says, looping his arm around her waist. “Grant?”

“Got her,” Grant says. Of course he does. He’s been by her side the whole time. He’s got her pressed right against him, where it’s safest. He’d never be anywhere else.

She tries to waddle, but they manage to semi-lift her anyway. Which is actually kind of nice. She just holds the blanket over herself, and tries not to panic.

“She’s early,” Skye says, though she’s not sure to whom. “Guys, she’s early, she can’t be early it has to be perfect I can’t mess this up, I can’t-”

They settle her by the front door, as Grant makes soft shushing sounds. “It’s okay,” Grant says. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. She’s coming exactly when she’s supposed to. You’re doing perfectly.”

“Please don’t be mad,” Skye says. “I didn’t mean to, I said in the car that I’m tired of carrying her and-”

“Skye,” Grant says, looking her square in the eye. “It’s okay. I promise you, this is okay. I am so excited to meet her. Aren’t you?”

She stifles her tears. Nods. “Yes,” she says, and means it more than anything in the world. “Oh God, Grant, I’m so nervous-”

“Don’t be.”

Skye looks at Mother, and says nothing at all.

Mother shrugs. “I had four. And it was fine. It’s hardly scary at all.”

“You’re gonna do great!” Rose says. “We’ll all be right there!”

“We’ll all be in the hospital waiting room until it’s time to meet Briar, is what she means,” Christian says. “We will not all be in the delivery room.”

“Oh thank God,” Skye says. “No offense.”

“Only a small amount taken,” Christian says. “I’ll have you know I’m something of an expert when it comes to labor.”

“Thank you, midwife Christian,” Skye says. “Oh, fuck. Contraction.”

“Okay,” Grant says. “Okay, baby. Just breathe. We’re gonna get you to the hospital, and it’s gonna be just fine.”

Skye breathes through her teeth. “Briar May Ward,” she says, to her bump. “I cannot even believe you right now.”

It makes Grant laugh. And that’s worth more than anything else.

 

 

In total, it takes seven hours.

The nurses tell her that’s a short amount of time. 

During labor, someone jokes that Briar must be pretty eager to come out, which would’ve been hilarious had Skye not been dilated to hell and back.

Oh well. Bygones.

It feels like thirty years, really. Like she’s just laying in a hospital bed, exposed to the whole world, and eventually a baby’s gonna come out.

Incidentally, that’s kind of exactly what happens.

“Still think I’m beautiful?” she asks Grant, who has been nothing but kind and loving and understanding this entire time. For some reason. Because he’s perfect, she supposes.

He wipes the sweaty hair back from her forehead. Kisses her gently on the cheek. “Of course,” he says. “Do you really have to ask?”

“I feel like a giant mess, so-”

“You’re gorgeous,” he whispers. “You’re having a baby. How could you possibly be any more beautiful than right now?”

“I could not have a head at my damn cervix,” Skye says.

“We’re gonna be a family,” he says. “And she’s gonna be every bit as wonderful as you are.”

She wonders how he’s keeping it together. He’s usually more emotional, more open about these things.

But she appreciates the stoic thing. It’s needed.

She holds his hand. “I love you,” she says.

He kisses her just as the doctor comes in. “I love you, too.”

 

 

Here’s the thing about Briar May Ward, the newborn baby.

She’s perfect. She’s literally the perfect baby, with a head of black hair and golden-brown eyes.

Because Grant had been right. She’s incredible.

But she looks like her father.

She’s all cleaned up, wrapped in a pink blanket.

Skye can’t take her from the doctor fast enough. Well. Within reason. She’s not going to grab a freaking baby.

“Look at her,” Skye says. Only to Grant. “Look at our little baby girl.”

“Mm-hm,” Grant says.

She turns to look at him. “You’re crying.”

He’s biting on his lower lip, with tears rolling down his cheeks.

“You can cry, Grant,” Skye says. “Oh baby, you can cry. It’s okay. Thank you for being so strong.”

“Oh, God,” Grant says. “Look Skye, look at her little hands and her little face-”

Skye smiles. “She has your eyes.”

And Grant, her strong, wonderful Grant, who cried when she’d told him she was pregnant in the first place-

Well. He finally, finally starts crying in earnest.

Briar stares up at him, like she’s wondering what all the fuss is about.

“Welcome to the world, Briar May,” Skye says.

Her daughter. Their daughter.

“She’s so-” Grant sobs. “She’s so beautifuuul!”

There’s no better way to put it.

 

 


End file.
